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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 76 of 307 Lie. I glanced just slightly at Julia to see if the dart had struck. Her lips pursed. It had. Score one for Nee. Julia smiled. She had recovered, "Meg's over there. Go talk." Meg was standing down the hallway with her own gaggle of worshipers. The Church That Shall Not Be Named has discovered something that all other churches on the planet seem to have missed: Hallways. Other churches claim they want to create a tightly knit bond between their members, but then they allow the faithful to exit the pews directly to the streaming sunshine and the parking lot. No hallways. My church, on the other hand, is shameless in its desire to smoosh us all together, so our buildings demand that rooms filled with hundreds of people empty through just a couple doors into small hallways where we are all squeezed nose to nose, heading for other doors and other smaller rooms. Sunday services in my church last for three full hours and we are squeezed into the hallways no less than five times as we run our gauntlet and jump through our hoops. Hallways for us have become the meeting place where we grant hugs to friends, acquaintances and investigators. I like to think of our hallways as creating traffic jams of love. During November I think of the hallways as creating traffic jams of flu. Some mornings I would see traffic jams of ugliness. |